Free verse № 133613
Submission
I write software
for hardware
that thinks in ones and zeros.
A higher form than it,
my code in DNA sports four,
not merely two attitudes.
I shoot an arrow of desire,
piercing hardened heart,
while riding a higher language horse,
my tongues are Lisp, Machine.
I think, and it thinks,
or so I say,
lead â it follows,
or appears to.
Imagine a square root negative,
I command with determined voice,
to which it balks audaciously,
âError â Stupid to contrive
a squared thing minus.â
At its stubborn gall,
I bite contentionâs bone,
breaking with fantasy
its stubborn heart.
My servant has no choice,
for I have spoken,
forced blood from silicone.
Like man, it performs for me,
submits to forceful charm,
and yields to innate fault.
17 comments
Thanks for your comment.
You carried that metaphor all the way through like a tightrope walker. Do the 4 attitudes have different screen names? If so dare I ask for their names so I can read their poetry too. Call me a silly romantic but I really can't help but think of it as a love poem.
You inspired another little poem out of me:
It came to me one cold winters day
to take the egg out of Dovina and make DNA.
It may just be because think I actually get all of this one that I feel giddy enough to give you -10-.
Itâs about love, Iâm glad you noticed it. When we seduce him with charm (force charm on him), itâs really yielding to an innate fault that only finds compliment in his terse, computer-like brain.
Youâre not getting any eggs out of me. This whole thing about sex is where she keeps hers and he gives his, remember.
If you start to read it in this way you can see how it made me go "Whoa! Wow!"
Another word for egg is "ovi". Now take "ovi" out of "DoviNA".
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